Page 20 of Three Months Yesterday

“I was just staring at the fridge, having no idea what to make when you knocked, so this couldn’t be more perfect. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing special, just some chicken, rice, and green beans.” She fidgets with the hem of her sweater, and it’s another thing to add to the endearing column of all things Madison.

“Have you eaten already?” I ask, wanting her to stay so we can talk more.

“Oh, um, yeah. I ate a while ago.”

If the plate hadn’t been so hot when I took it from her and she hadn’t swallowed so hard I could see it from feet away, I might’ve believed her. But there’s a reason she didn’t tell me the truth, and I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.

Spending more than five minutes in each other’s presence is something we’re going to have to work on.

I nod, not really sure what else to say. I don’t want her to leave, but I don’t think she’s ready to stay.

“I’m gonna go.” She gestures over her shoulder toward the door, but doesn’t make a move to leave.

“All right,” I say, staying exactly where I am.

“Again, I just wanted to apologize and drop that off.” She still doesn’t move, and neither do I.

“It’s not needed, but apology accepted. And thank you again for the food.”

“Sure.”

It’s like we’re locked in a trance. I don’t know why she’s not moving, but I’m afraid if I do she’ll leave. Even though I know that’s exactly what she wants.

None of that matters, though. The sound of a door closing outside makes both of us jump, and Madison is moving so fast I’d think I imagined the whole thing if it weren’t for the plate of food sitting on the kitchen island.

At a slower pace, I follow Madison out the door, curious who’s visiting our corner of the property.

Finding the sheriff’s SUV parked out front isn’t what I expected, but considering he’s the one person I’ve talked with most—other than the woman who just ran away from me, again—over the last couple days, I’m not all that surprised.

What shocks me is the car seat in the back of his police cruiser and the small child waiting patiently to be let out of his seat. I don’t know why I’m so shocked by it. I only met the man yesterday when he was seated at the table next to mine at Liberty Tavern and we talked briefly this afternoon at Cobble & Cup Cafe when we ran into each other, but we didn’t share our life stories. There’s plenty we don’t know about each other.

“Big brother,” Madison rasps, giving me another piece of information I didn’t have until now. A piece of information that has me questioning exactly why Aiden showed up. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my baby sister?” Aiden says as he helps a little boy from the back seat, his gaze quickly moving to me where I stand on the cottage’s front porch.

And with those words, I have a pretty good idea why Aiden is here. Not waiting for him to address me directly, I make my way toward them.

“Don’t start with that baby sister crap,” Madison whispers, most likely trying to keep the little boy from hearing her.

“Aunt Maddie!” the little voice calls, clinging to his aunt’s leg.

“Hey, little man. How are you?” She smiles, the irritation from her face melting away instantly as she bends to lift him to her hip.

“Good. Missed you.” His head falls to her shoulder, and I have to admit, she looks good with a kid in her arms, cuddled close.

“Beckett,” Aiden rumbles, pulling my attention away from his sister. “Good to see you again.”

“You too.” I offer my hand in greeting, anticipating the tight grip well before it happens.

Having grown up with guys who have younger sisters, I’m used to the overprotective brother type. Even if it’s normally reserved for people trying to date their sister. While Aiden clearly knew more than he let on during our conversations, I never once brought up Madison or exactly where I was staying at The Lantern Inn.

I may have been thinking about Madison in a way that warrants the look he’s giving me now, but I don’t know why he’d assume that until showing up here this evening and actually seeing us interacting with each other.

“Who’s that?” a little voice calls, bringing everyone’s attention to the little boy in Madison’s arms.

“That’s Mr. Stone,” Madison tells him.